


You Could Taste Heaven

by cumberhardhiddlesbitch



Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [26]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Date Night, Dessert As Foreplay, F/M, Food, Hand Feeding, Kissing, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26382190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberhardhiddlesbitch/pseuds/cumberhardhiddlesbitch
Summary: Ben and Shannon have a date night. Tom joins them later.
Relationships: Benedict Cumberbatch/Original Female Character(s), Benedict Cumberbatch/Tom Hardy/Original Female Character(s), Tom Hardy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Rhombus 'Verse [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/715134
Kudos: 7





	You Could Taste Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song "A Sorta Fairytale" by Tori Amos.

Shannon was startled when her mobile buzzed on the table, thankful she hadn’t yet put brush to canvas when her hand had jerked. She huffed a laugh, shaking her head at herself as she set the brush down and wandered to the table. 

_Still on for dinner tonight?_

She smiled as she picked up the phone, seeing Ben had sent it to the group message rather than just her.

 _Love to_ Tom sent a moment later.

 _can u?_ was Ben’s response, and the hopefulness exuding from those five characters was almost palpable. 

She wondered if he’d deliberately sent to them both and was a little surprised at the warmth that came from that thought rather than something more negative. There weren’t many times where all three of them had a chance to spend time together, and while she had been very much looking forward to having her date with Ben, the thought of Tom also being there only heightened her anticipation.

 _Are we still going to Stefano’s?_ she sent.

 _At six, yeah._ Ben replied.

Shannon glanced at the clock; it was three, she still had plenty of time before she had to change and be on her way across the City to Ben’s.

_Can’t make that, but can come to yours after. Probly 8ish._

_It’s a date!_ she sent, laughing when a moment later Ben’s own _YES!!!!!!_ came through. She couldn’t help but imagine Tom as he got them, the wide grin he got when he was truly happy, his eyes squinched almost closed as he chortled. As always when she thought of Tom in more than passing, warmth and _happiness_ bubbled up inside her, and she couldn’t quite believe that where she was in life at the moment was real. To have found such a connection with one man would have been more than enough, but to have it with two, well, that had been beyond her scope of reality until it had happened. Her relationship with Ben wasn’t the same as with Tom and she didn’t think it ever would be, but that might be all right in the grand scheme of things. She and Ben needed different things from each other than either of them did from Tom, and vice versa, but that didn’t change the fact that they all loved each other. 

Her phone buzzed again, this time to her alone. _I asked that because I’m out and I’d be happy to swing by and pick you up._

_Thanks, Ben, but it’s so far out of your way._

His reply was the eyeroll emoji but she knew he wasn’t finished as the three dots showed more was imminent. _I’d be happy to swing by and pick you up._

She rolled her own eyes and laughed a little. _How long until you get here?_

_Have another stop to make first, so I’ll say forty-five minutes to an hour. I’ll message you when I’m there._

_Okay, see you then._

She was pleased that she still had time to paint a little more and set her alarm for half an hour before walking back to the easel. She considered the canvas for a long moment, then picked up the brush and started to work though she never lost herself in it as she had earlier. After about fifteen minutes, she gave it up and cleaned her brushes before moving on to clean herself. When Ben’s text buzzed in twenty minutes later, she was free from paint and changed into a pair of black jeans and an emerald green bell-sleeve square-neck peasant blouse. Grabbing her purse and keys, she locked up and went down to see Ben’s car idling in a No Parking zone. He waved, grinning unrepentantly as she went round to the passenger side.

She shook her head at him as she got in, shutting the door before looking over at him. “Hey, you.”

“Come here,” he said, leaning to meet her with a soft, warm kiss. 

She sat back after a few seconds, smiling as she did up her safety belt. “Thanks for this.”

“My pleasure, and may I say you look rather fetching?”

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks heating at his appreciative gaze. “You look…” she trailed off as she took in his navy blue track bottoms and yellow t-shirt.

“Yes?” he stretched out the word as his eyebrows rose.

“Comfortable. Which is fine, by the way.” It’s only that she was momentarily surprised at what Ben didn’t mind being photographed in sometimes. 

“Of course it is,” he scoffed. “You weren’t painting in this outfit you’re wearing now.”

“No, because these are going outside clothes and those are never seeing the outside of my studio ever clothes.”

Ben laughed. “At least the colours don’t clash. That’s something Tom can’t always claim.”

Shannon blinked and shook her head again. “I just...what? Do neither of you check yourselves before you leave sheltered spaces?”

“That’s only one small reason we need you in our lives, Shaz. You’ll save us from making glaring fashion errors in future.”

“We live in different places so I doubt I’d be much help with that. Though even if we did I wouldn’t want any sort of control over how you dress, Ben. You _should_ be comfortable in the clothes you wear.”

He reached over and took her hand in his, squeezing, then raised it to his mouth and kissed her palm before he let go to get the car in gear. “I do appreciate that. Don’t worry, I was planning on changing when I got home again anyway. You put forth an effort and so shall I.”

“Well thank fuck for that,” she said archly, settling back into the seat whilst Ben chuckled and got them into the flow of traffic.

The drive to Ben’s was a bit long but not interminable, the company and ride much better than she would have gotten on public transport. As Ben manoeuvered his car into a spot that she wouldn’t have even tried had it been her driving, she watched his hands on the wheel and gear shift, cradling and curving around them, and thought about his long, slender fingers cupping and squeezing her. It took a couple of minutes, but somehow Ben had fit in the spot--and mostly straight in as well--and turned to her.

He blinked at whatever he saw on her face, then grinned. “All I had to do to catch your attention is park the bloody car?” He was delighted at her blush, and reached out, trailing a fingertip down the side of her face.

“I have a competency kink, okay?”

“I’m going to need you to tell me all about that,” he said, undoing his safety belt and leaning to kiss her, not nearly as soft this time, his hands coming up to cup her head.

She mostly managed to bite back the noise that wanted to turn into a moan and opened her mouth for him, pushing to meet him as much as she could in the restraint of her own safety belt. After being kept from optimal participation in the kiss because of where the belt cut across her body, she pulled away. “I’m sorry, but this seat belt can fuck _off_ ,” she said breathlessly as she scrabbled to unlock it.

“Let me,” he said, reaching down and, moving her hand out of the way, he released her from her belt prison.

“Thanks. Now let’s get inside because I feel like indulging in a make out session with you and I’m not here to supply free entertainment or gossip fodder for Hampstead Heath.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he announced, quickly getting out and heading round to get her door for her. He helped her out, then squeezed her hand before reluctantly letting it go. Unfortunately, this was the reality of their relationship until they went public, whenever that might be. Luckily, the walk to his townhome was just a couple of blocks, and, if they were walking close enough that their arms and hands brushed quite often, no one was the wiser.

Inside, he backed her against the door once he’d closed it and bent to kiss her again, starting soft, then quickly deepening it as she hummed and opened her mouth to him. She was a bit surprised when he was the one who pulled back.

“Shall we make ourselves more comfortable in the lounge rather than standing around against hard surfaces?”

She laughed, soft and breathless, reaching to brush her thumb over his lower lip. “Oh, by all means. I am all in favour of comfort.”

“I’m so glad my girlfriend likes softer surfaces because my boyfriend seems to have no fucks to give about it. One gets bruises from hard or sharp edges, you know,” Ben imparted, inclining his head. 

Shannon fought not to laugh for about ten seconds, then gave up on maintaining her serious face. “Thanks for imparting that knowledge, O Wise One.”

“I didn't “impart” anything, I was just saying.” Ben scoffed, waving her off.

“It was most definitely imparting, what with the smug tone of voice and the knowing nod and smile after. But don’t worry, Benedict,” she said, taking his hand and walking through to the sofa. “We’re going to settle in for a snog so the imparting discourse is over for now.”

“Can it truly be a discourse when it was you telling--” she pushed him gently back and he huffed a laugh as gravity landed him in the middle of the sofa. “Fine. About that snog…”

She considered how she wanted to settle and decided to straddle him. It was one of her favourite positions, after all. Climbing astride him, she settled with her knees on either side of his hips, but stayed kneeling up so she was actually leaning down to kiss him.

“You really like being on top, don’t you,” he said when they parted for breath. 

She shrugged. “I mean, yeah, sometimes.”

“And sometimes,” he began, his hands taking hold of her hips and pushing her down until his eyeline was above hers, holding her there, letting her feel his strength, “you like to be held down.”

She shivered under his hands, had to clear her throat before she answered. “That, too.” 

A slow smirk curved his mouth but he said nothing further, simply bent to kiss her again, softer than she expected. Letting go of her hips, he tucked her hair behind her ears, then cupped her head gently, looking at her with a sudden intensity at odds with his light touch.

“Have I mentioned lately that I am the luckiest man I know?”

“Besides Tom?” she said, chuckling.

He snorted quite indelicately. “He is rather, isn’t he? Well. Except that he has to deal with me.”

“If you get pedantic, you have to deal with you as well.”

Ben’s eyebrow rose. “Who’s getting pedantic?”

She huffed and poked his chest. “You. Often. Situationally or full out, the pedant in the room is you.”

Ben cackled as he let go of her and leant back, his head resting on the top of the sofa. “Situationally pedantic. I _love_ it.”

“I’ll be getting you a printed t-shirt, will I?” she asked, laughing as he grinned up at her so hard she thought his face would start hurting in a minute.

“It would have a place of honour in my wardrobe.”

“Ah, but would it ever have a place of honour on your person might be the more relevant question here.”

“I would wear it proudly and often, my love. I swear whatever minimal effort you might spend getting it made and delivered to me will be richly rewarded.” He pressed his hand over his heart and nodded earnestly.

She snorted and shook her head. “We’ll see,” she replied, smiling as she kissed him, soft and warm. Neither of them pushed for anything deeper as they didn’t really have time before they’d need to head out. Stefano’s was only three blocks away so they’d be walking there rather than giving up the prime parking spot he’d found earlier, and he still needed to get changed. 

Too soon, he pulled back from her, licking his lips. “I’d better get ready.”

Sighing in agreement with his rueful tone, she pushed herself to the side so he could get up, then stood herself. “I’ll just stay down here. If you start taking your clothes off in front of me there might very well be a delay in our leaving the house.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I missed a reservation because something better came along,” he said, huffing a laugh.

“Go on with you, Benny, I’m hungry for cooked sustenance that I didn’t cook.”

“Oh, fine. You’ll have to make it up to me later, though.” 

“What a chore,” she called after him as he climbed the stairs. After he was gone, she wandered into the kitchen and got a glass of water, thinking it wasn’t even a fib that she was hungry as she pictured the lasagne she’d be having later.

Ben came back downstairs about twenty minutes later in casual trousers and a chambray button down, the top two buttons undone, showing the white vest underneath. His hair was mostly dry and already curling wildy. “I figured it wasn’t worth the product since it’s a bit windy and it’ll get blown to hell whilst we’re walking anyway.”

“Good thought there.”

“I loathe the length,” he said, his lip curling as he irritatedly brushed some hair off his forehead. 

“You don’t loathe it when Tom’s pulling on it, though.” She was delighted by his light flush.

“Or you, come to that.” Ben’s expression screamed tit for tat as her own flush heated her skin.

“Maybe we’ll have some of that later.”

“Don’t tease me, Jolicoeur,” he said, his eyes narrowing. 

“Well, I could do it now, but it would negate the effort we’ve made to actually get the fuck out the door, and I want some of Stefano’s lasagne, so shall we be on our way?”

He sighed deeply, throwing his hands up in abject resignation. “Fine.”

Shannon laughed. “You’re such an actor.”

“I mean, yes?” His eyebrows rose, strongly suggesting his doubt in her sanity, but she only laughed harder.

“Come on, you ridiculous, lovely man,” she said, holding out her hand and waggling her fingers. 

He smiled and took it, and they walked to the door holding hands as they wouldn’t be able to outside. At the door, he squeezed her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it before letting go. They slipped their shoes on and she grabbed her purse and he bent to kiss her, soft and warm, before straightening and opening the door.

He made a sweeping gesture toward the outside. “Shall we?” 

“ _Fin_ ally,” she groused good-naturedly as she headed out.

“Yes, yes, the bloody lasagna. I obviously made a tactical error in bringing you there before. It’s all you can think about!”

“Believe that,” she said, chuckling at his snort.

The walk was pleasant, the wind not kicking up too much and the sun well on its way to setting, painting the sky in light oranges and pinks. For a few moments, she let herself imagine a similar setting in future, when they could hold hands or Ben could wrap his arm around her shoulders as they walked, and sighed at the depth of _want_ she felt for that simple pleasure.

Ben gently knocked his shoulder to hers. “All right?”

“I am,” she said, smiling up at him. “Just wistful.”

“You’re only about half an hour from your lasagne,” he teased as they reached the door to Stefano's. 

She gladly allowed him to take things in that direction, for when she’d looked up at him, his eyes were knowing and yet warm, so he most likely knew what she’d truly been wistful about. He might even share her thoughts. “That’s thirty whole minutes, Benedict, and possibly more!”

He laughed as he pulled open the door and they entered the small vestibule, then he reached for the inner door, holding it open for her. Straight ahead from the inner door was the cash and hosting stations, where a short, stocky man stood, his dark eyes lighting up as he recognised them.

“Shannon! Ben!” he said, coming round the desk with arms open. He reached Shannon first and gave her a tight hug, then kissed her cheeks with an enthusiastic smack.

“Giancarlo, hello,” she greeted, awkwardly pleased at the reception as she stepped back to let him get to Ben who got the same treatment. 

“Come, come, I have a table in the back for you.”

“Thanks for that, mate,” Ben said warmly as they were led to the back. The bar was busy, as always, and pretty much everyone at it waved or called out greetings as Ben went past. 

“So you’re the Norm in this scenario?” she said, chuckling as he snorted.

“I reckon that makes you Cliff, then,” he replied, winking at her as they both laughed louder.

Giancarlo smiled at them but said nothing as they got to their table, the first just inside the second dining room, right behind a wall that separated the two spaces. It was about the most private spot in the restaurant, and Ben sat facing the wall, offering the least chance for people to recognise him.

“Tonight on special Alessandra is offering the ecstasies and a honey dijon salmon.”

“What’s the ecstasies?” Shannon asked, looking at Giancarlo.

“Can be chicken or veal sautéed with smoked bacon and sliced mushrooms in a brandy tomato cream sauce, scented with rosemary, and served with roasted red potatoes. The salmon is pan seared and is also served with roasted red potatoes.”

Shannon’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, that…” she trailed off and looked at Ben. “I may have to give up the lasagne for chicken ecstacy tonight.”

“Oh, yes, Shannon,” Giancarlo said, nodding emphatically. “You can get the lasagne anytime, but Alessandra only offers the ecstasies occasionally. Well worth it.” 

“I’ll have that, then. It certainly sounds amazing!”

“Yes! And anyway, you can always order lasagne for takeaway at the end of your meal.” Giancarlo winked at her.

Ben chuckled, grinning widely. “That’s her sorted.”

“Oh, be quiet, Ben,” she said rolling her eyes, though she was smiling. 

“What about you, Ben, are you having the salmon tonight?”

“Absolutely. You know I can never pass that up, Giancarlo.”

“Very good. Teresita will be right here for you--”

“I’d be handing them some water and bread already if you weren’t in my way, Papa,” came a lightly accented and very amused voice from behind Giancaro.

Teresita was at least half a foot taller than her father, and Shannon hid her smile behind her hand as Giancarlo departed with a comment about kids these days. Teresita set water glasses in front of them both, then put a small basket of focaccia bread in the middle of the table, and the fresh rosemary scent with a hint of garlic and salt that wafted up had her mouth watering.

“Will you be having a drink other than water tonight?”

“Mmm, with the mains, I think, for me. Shannon?”

“Same for me. For now water is fine.”

“Okay, I’ll come back just before the entrees and find out what you’d like, then. Of course if you need anything before that, please let me know.”

“Will do,” Ben said, smiling as she headed to the kitchen.

“So they refer to her as little Teresa as a joke, like Little John or how some Australians call redheads blue for a nickname?”

Ben laughed. “Just like that, in fact.”

“Not that I’ve been here so many times, but I haven’t seen her before?”

“She’s off school until Autumn now, so she’s helping out, sometimes front of house, sometimes back of house.”

“Ah, okay. Please pardon me as I rip into this though,” she said, reaching for the fragrant bread. Her eyes slid shut and she moaned as she took her first bite. 

“Control yourself, darling,” Ben said, chuckling huskily.

“I will control myself when there is not amazing fresh focaccia in front of me,” she replied once she’d swallowed. “God, this is so perfect.”

“Isn’t focaccia fairly easy to make yourself?”

“I mean, yeah, but it doesn’t taste like this, okay?” She chuckled then took another bite, savoring the garlic infused oil that had settled in the dips of the bread.

“What would be so different?”

“The biggest differences would be any added ingredients and the amounts of both those and the basic ingredients. Like, this is probably extra light olive oil that’s been infused with garlic rather than crushing garlic into the actual dough.” She smiled as Ben cocked his head, then added, “There would be a much heavier taste of garlic were it included in the dough.”

“Ah, that makes sense. So would you put garlic in the bread, then?”

“I’d probably buy some infused olive oil,” she admitted with a shrug. “I’m not a chef, Ben, if there’s an easier way, I’m probably taking it, and let’s face it, buying oil takes a lot less time and energy than peeling and mincing or crushing fresh garlic. Plus my hands don’t smell of garlic for a day.”

“I know that’s what I’d do,” Ben said, chuckling.

Teresita brought out two ceasar salads, smiled, and sailed off again. The dressing was lightly applied and delicious; Shannon had tried to recreate it at home but hadn’t been fully successful yet. 

“Someday I will get the right proportions for this at home. I’m pretty close, but it’s not quite there.”

“You could ask if they’d share the recipe. That’s what I’d do,” Ben said, nodding sagely.

She shook her head, laughing as he winked at her. “I’ll probably break down and do that at some point.”

“As long as you’re having fun with the trying, I suppose.”

“I am so far, and I’ve actually cobbled together a recipe I really quite like, so there’s that.”

“Well then.”

“Indeed.”

Ben chuckled, shaking his head as he took a bite of salad. They were quiet for a few minutes as they finished their salads, though they often caught each other’s eyes, smiling when they did. She couldn’t help but think how only a few months ago, she’d actively hoped never to have to spend time with him and wondered if their unfortunate beginnings would haunt them in the future. She was secure in how she felt about him; once they’d corrected their course, their feelings took root quickly as they discovered what Tom had tried telling them from the off, that they would be brilliant friends. 

She suspected Ben had similar thoughts as the next smile he offered was crooked. “‘What’s past is prologue.’” 

“How apropos,” Shannon said, huffing a soft laugh. “Were you ever in the Tempest?”

“I was! In 2004, I did an audio version.”

“You played Ferdinand, didn’t you.” It was not a question.

Ben laughed. “I did, in point of fact.”

“I’m going to have to get my hands on that.”

“I think my mum has a copy of it, actually. I’ll ask her.”

“That would be lovely, Ben. Thank you. It’ll be your audio and theatre roles that will be the hardest to ferret out, I think.”

“Please don’t feel you have to search out my stuff, Shannon. No one deserves to suffer through all that.”

“Oh, stop that. You’d have to _try_ to be bad in a role and you know it.”

“Sounds like you know Ben quite well,” Teresita said, laughing.

“I’m starting to, anyway,” Shannon replied, smiling up at her.

Teresita looked at her for a long moment--considering if I’m good enough perhaps, Shannon thought--then offered a small smile in return. “I’m here for wine orders. What would you both like?” 

“I think I’d like a chard, something more buttery,” Shannon said, laughing as Ben screwed his face up. “No one said we had to drink the same wine, Benedict.”

“Thank God for _that_ ,” he replied, shuddering exaggeratedly as he winked at Teresita.

“You want the Pinot or the Zin?” Teresita asked, grinning down at him.

“You know me so well,” he said, and Teresita flushed a little at the praise. “The Pinot tonight, I think.”

“Back in a few with your food and drinks,” Teresita said, walking quickly toward the bar.

“How big is the crush she has on you?” Shannon asked as Ben looked down, then back up at her under his lashes. As usual, it sent warmth through her and she bit her lip as a faint smirk curved his mouth. He knew exactly what it did to her, the jerk.

“Only a little, truly. It’s more of a protective thing than anything else.”

“Could it be a problem down the line?”

“No,” Ben said, shaking his head. “Think of this family as my Pats.”

Shannon wasn’t entirely sure about that, but then considered that Ben hadn’t entirely believed that the staffers at the Olde Spot could be trusted either at first and nodded. “All right. Fair enough.”

“I get it,” he assured her, “I know you’re thinking about the future and what could happen, but the businesses in this area want us--by which I mean famous people of varying degrees of fame--to frequent them, so they take measures for privacy, as much as they can. For example, this restaurant is going to fill up, but they’ll seat the tables as best they can for my maximum privacy.”

“I’m so glad you have that slice of privacy.”

“Me, too, even if it is mostly an illusion. I fear my days of just having a pint in my local without recognition have passed me by.” He sighed heavily, fiddling with the silverware, pushing the stems side to side without picking them up. “I’m grateful that more people are discovering how brilliant our little community is, but sometimes one simply wants to sit at a bar and chat to friends whilst enjoying food and drink.”

“Not to mention the awkwardness of being with other people not on your level of fame--which is really only going to grow from here on, Ben--who aren’t asked for pictures or autographs.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open for a long moment. “I had not considered that before right this moment.”

“What, that you were only going to get more famous from here?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I’m a jobbing actor, Shazza!”

“You _used_ to be a jobbing actor, but come on Ben, you’re on another level now and you’re only going to get better. I can’t wait to see the kinds of roles you take on going forward, to be honest. That sort of divide can be a relationship wrecker, though, romantic, platonic and everything in between.”

“That sounds like bitter experience,” Ben replied, reaching out to gently squeeze her wrist.

She shrugged, but couldn’t quite come up with a smile for him. “Sometimes I feel that’s what kept me and Sarah from being more than politely friendly.”

“Your other roommate?”

“Yes. It doesn’t help that she and Max were in a romantic relationship when I came into the house. They’re on again, off again and whenever they’re on the outs, I think Sarah thinks I’m trying to take Max for myself or something. Even now, and even with the fact that I’ve never shown interest in romantic relationships with other women.”

“That definitely sounds exhausting, long term.” 

Very much appreciating his support, she nodded and dredged up a small smile. “It has been, but that’s not even all. We’re all artists, including most of the people in our extended social circle. We don’t make the same kinds of art, but we’re all creative and relatively recognised in our particular circles. Even before I met Tom, I was coming up--the show where we met was my first solo show and, not to pat myself on the back, but you don’t get those unless you have solid reputation and draw behind your name--and I think it was a burr under her saddle as soon as she realised that I was becoming better known, even though we’ve never been in a direct competition due to our specialties.”

“Has that competitiveness come out in other ways since we met?”

“She seems to not give a single fuck about Tom or you, but I can’t say that will last if--when--everything goes public.”

“Does she think you don’t deserve what you’ve got?”

“Probably? I try not to spend a lot of energy on thinking about it since it won’t change, and it’s not unbearable or anything, so it goes in the back of my mind.” She shrugged again.

“Luckily, you have other places you can stay on occasion.” He flashed a quick grin and a wink at her as Teresita appeared with a tray bearing their food and wine.

“All right, here you go. Enjoy, and I check on you in a few minutes.” She set the wine glasses down followed by the food.

“This smells so good,” Shannon said, cutting a bite of chicken and spearing a mushroom and a piece of bacon. “Oh my god,” she practically moaned as she chewed. 

“I’ll have some of what you’re having,” he said, his smile slightly smug and pleased when she recognised and laughed at his bastardised “When Harry Met Sally” quote.

She cut a bite, with mushroom and bacon, then held her fork out. His eyes flashed with mischief and for a moment she wondered if he wasn’t going to lean forward and eat it right off the fork, but he only reached out to take the utensil from her. She didn’t even have time to feel relieved at that before he twisted his wrist, the fork now inverted, and raised it his mouth, opening to take the bite in, closing around the base of the stem, pulling the fork out with an audible pop.

“Damn it, Ben,” she said, staring at his mouth as he chewed.

“What, I’m just savouring your delicious meal.” 

“And I’m the Queen.” 

“You know, technically, were we ever to marry, you could be.”

His words sent a ball of emotion through her that wasn’t all positive. The idea of marriage wasn’t one she’d thought much about for a very long time, though the visceral reaction was pleasant--as long as it was to Tom. She did love Ben, but not at that particular level, at least not yet. She pushed it all down and met his gaze, dubious.

“I’m not taking the piss, I’m actually related to Richard the Third.”

Shannon blinked, then her eyebrows rose. “I believe you left the extremely salient word “distantly” off that statement.”

Ben laughed, grinning widely. “I’m his third cousin some ridiculous number of removeds.”

“I find it very hard to believe that you don’t know the exact number of removeds, Benedict,” she said, pursing her lips.

Ben threw his head back, laughter loud and exuberant. “All right, all right, you have me on that,” he said, clearly delighted with her response. “It’s sixteen.”

She couldn’t say she was surprised to hear that; Ben’s picture was probably in the dictionary under the word posh. “So how long do you usually wait to tell people that?” she asked, teasing. It would be quite the pick-up line.

Ben wrinkled his nose. “I don’t usually. It’s not common knowledge.”

Now that did surprise her, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. “Really?”

He shrugged, his fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on the table, seeming out of sorts with her surprise. “I’d like to surround myself with genuine people as far as I can in my chosen profession. I don’t need this factoid dredging up even more sycophants and hangers-on hoping to capitalise somehow.”

“Hey,” she said softly, reaching to rub her fingertips along the side of his hand, “It wasn’t a dig. That would be one hell of a pickup line is all I meant.”

He sighed and visibly swallowed down his irritation. “I know. It’s a sore spot.”

“I can tell. I’m sorry I poked it.”

He waved her words away. “You need not apologise, it was obvious you were teasing with no ill intent.”

She tilted her head, studying him for a moment. He’d had an interview or two yesterday, maybe something had been said that had stirred this up. Whatever the case, she didn’t want to keep on the subject when they were trying to relax. One of the things she was starting to know well about Ben was that he had endless words in him, sometimes so many that he tripped over them as they came out in a rush if he was passionate about something or nervous, and she decided to take advantage. “So while we’re at least peripherally on the subject of Shakespeare, what are your bucket list roles? Aside from Hamlet because it’s a given that everyone wants to play Hamlet.”

Ben’s grateful smile at her redirection was genuine. “But I always look forward to saying Hamlet.”

It occurred to her that, when he was many years older, he would be an excellent King Lear as well. “What about King Lear? It’s kind of the older distinguished actor’s Hamlet, isn’t it?”

“Oh my God, Shannon!” He burst into laughter again, this time attracting a few looks from the few people sat around them in the back. Luckily, he was facing away from them.

She gave him a few moments to settle. “Well?”

“It is on my Shakespeare bucket list, yes. Actually, that’s kind of peripheral to another overall acting bucket list item. My top two are Hamlet and Patrick Melrose.”

“Patrick Melrose?”

“Mm. He’s an extraordinary character from a series of Edward St. Aubin novels, a drug and alcohol addicted society man who was horribly abused as a child. I’m not doing it justice, really, but he’s fucking extraordinary.”

“He must be - you just recycled the word extraordinary in two consecutive sentences and you don’t normally do that sort of thing.”

Ben ducked his head, huffing a breath as he flushed lightly. “You’re beginning to know me entirely too well, Shannon.”

She chuckled softly. “Try your food so I can try it.”

Smiling up at her from under his lashes, he took a bite of his salmon, his eyes sliding shut momentarily. 

“Good, then?”

“It always is. I’ve never managed to order anything else when Alessandra serves it up as a special. Tonight is the first time I’ve ever been able to taste an ecstasy dish, actually.” He speared a bite and held the fork out for her. “Here.”

She took the fork, fingers brushing his, but simply took the bite before passing it back.

“You have no romance,” Ben said as she chewed.

“I have plenty of romance,” she said after swallowing. “Only it’s saved for quieter places than this.”

Ben took her gentle rebuke, nodding. “You’ll have to prove that later.”

“Oh, I will. And you’re right, that salmon is delicious. Can I have another bite?”

“Only if you let me have another bite of yours.”

“Fair enough.” She passed him her fork and this time he behaved, to her relief. 

“Don’t worry, Shazza, it was unfair of me to tease you like that here. I’m sorry.” 

“Accepted,” she said as he took the bite, spearing a piece of salmon with her fork before passing it back to her.

They smiled at each other then got down to the business of eating, neither saying anything until Teresita came by a few minutes later.

“Looks like you’re enjoying it, anyway.”

“Oh my God, Teresita, it’s fantastic! And the fish is cooked perfectly as well! Please give my compliments to the chef.”

“I will do, she’ll be very pleased,” Teresita said, grinning. “Can I get you anything else?”

“I think we’re good for now, thanks,” Ben replied, smiling before taking a sip of his wine.

“All right, I’ll check back with you in a bit then.” Teresita sailed off into the kitchen and Shannon heard “Mama…” followed by a spate of rapid Italian before the door swished closed, muffling the words.

“Do you speak Italian at all, Shannon?”

“Enough to get by, but I’m not fluent by any means. She was speaking way too fast for me to follow, regardless.”

“How many languages can you “get by” in?”

“French and Italian, and I’ve been trying my hand at Irish since my sister and her family live there. I’m not sure that’s at a getting by level, though.”

“I’ve heard gaelic can be quite difficult to pick up.”

“It’s not the easiest, I will admit, but if my baby niece can do it…”

“Yeah, but kids' brains and vocal systems are set up to soak in, as it were. A child growing up in a mutli-lingual home will easily learn each language, even if they require different methods of mouth shape and tongue positioning for speech. An adult will have a much more difficult time, even with immersion.”

“It makes sense, I guess.” She shrugged. “What about you?”

“I can also get by in French and in Greek as well, plus I know how to swear in at least a dozen languages.”

She laughed. “I mean, can’t everyone? I think my swear count is right around yours.”

“We’ll have to have an international swear off one of these days. See how many Tom knows as well. We can all be twelve again.”

Shannon took a drink of her wine, smirking after she swallowed. “Sounds delightful.”

Ben grinned at her but didn’t say anything, choosing to allow them to concentrate on finishing their mains. Teresita appeared soon after.

“And what can I get you for afters?” she asked, taking their plates.

“I love that it’s “what are you having” rather than “are you having”,” Shannon said, chuckling.

“I mean, let’s be honest,” Ben said, “I don’t think I’ve ever left here without pudding.”

“Exactly. So are you doing panna cotta or zabaglione?”

“Do you want to get one of each and share?” Shannon asked.

“Excellent plan,” Ben replied, nodding up at Teresita.

“All right, any coffee or espresso?”

Shannon shook her head. They’d for sure be having tea with Tom in a bit and she wanted to sleep at some point tonight. “Not for me, thanks.”

“Nor for me.”

Teresita nodded and headed off for the kitchen.

Shannon sipped the last of her wine and sighed, content in the moment. “This has been an excellent meal, Ben, and now we’ve got sweet treats on the way and then we get to snatch some precious time with Tom. It’s shaping up to be a fantastic night.”

“Absolutely.” He smiled crookedly, and suddenly Shannon wanted to cancel the dessert order, take him home, and devour _him_ for afters. She ruthlessly shut that thought down before it could gain purchase. Apparently she hadn’t hidden it all that well, because Ben waved Teresita over. “Could you get those to go, darling?

“Of course,” Teresita answered, smirking, before leaving.

Shannon covered her face as it flushed. “Oh my God, Benedict.” 

“What? I’m sure Tom would love some as well.”

“Right,” she said, stretching the word out.

“You were the one with the wicked thoughts!”

“Thoughts, not actions! Will I ever be able to look Teresita in the face again? Signs point to no.”

“All right, magic eight ball, calm down. Surely this is the same as a man sent to a store to purchase feminine hygiene products for his partner. Hold your head up, you’re getting some!”

“Oh my God, Ben!”

He was still laughing at her when Teresita came back. “We’re packing everything up for you, so I’m just dropping the cheque off.”

Ben swiped it from the centre of the table where she’d put it down. “Hang on a mo and you can take it with you.” He pulled out a card and handed both to her.

“You don’t even look at cheques before you pay these days?”

“I know about how much it was.”

“I know about how much it was, too.”

“Fair enough,” he allowed. “I didn’t want to debate paying.”

“I wasn’t going to debate you paying. You invited me out, and we decided a while ago that the inviter decides the payment.”

“Well, if you’re going to be reasonable about it.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I don’t remember ever being unreasonable about it.”

Ben sighed. “Sorry, I’m tripping over my metaphorical feet here.”

She smiled, letting him off the hook. “It’s fine, I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“I’m going to give you a hard time later, just you wait.”

“Looking forward to seeing just how hard a time that is,” she said, winking at him. 

Teresita came back bringing two bags and the payment folder. “Have a lovely evening,” she said, putting everything on the table and turning, smirking as she waved.

“Good night, it was nice to meet you,” Shannon managed as she flushed again.

“See you,” Ben said, grinning as he opened the folder to sign the chit. “All right, let’s take our spoils and be gone from here.”

When they got back to Ben’s home, they unpacked both bags only to find one bag had both their desserts and the other contained a hearty portion of lasagne and some of the focaccia bread.

“Is that why you grabbed the cheque so quickly?” She leant on the counter, crossing her arms.

“No, it wasn’t on the cheque at all. I did look over the final total when it came back, if you’ll remember.”

“I suppose you probably would have looked smug or something if it had been,” she said with a crooked smile.

“Likely,” he admitted, huffing a laugh.

A wave of deep affection washed over her and she pushed off the counter, walking over to him, her hands taking hold around his biceps. He looked down at her, his eyes darkening, and bent to meet her mouth with his, their kiss soft yet deep, unhurried, as mouths opened and tongues slid in, licking, tasting, teasing against the other. Tom’s key in the lock had them smiling against each other’s mouth before they pulled apart.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Tom said as he came into the kitchen. He looked tired, though his smile at seeing them was genuinely happy.

“Oh, but if we didn’t, then I wouldn’t be able to do this,” Ben said, letting go of her to take him in his arms, hugging tightly before loosening up a little.

“And I wouldn’t be able to do this,” Shannon added, wrapping her arms around Tom from behind.

Tom hummed between them, slumping. “You’re both lovely.”

“And utterly in love,” Ben added.

Shannon “aww”ed in the most over the top way while Tom snorted.

“Are you not?” Ben asked, pushing them to arm’s length. “Because I don’t think I’ll be sharing my afters with people who aren’t utterly in love with me.”

“You brought home afters?” Tom seemed to perk up considerably.

“Panna cotta and zabaglione, to be precise,” Shannon put in.

“But nothing happens without the magic words,” Ben said, stepping back and waggling his finger at them.

“Mm. Well.” Tom squeezed Shannon’s hands where they were still clasped around him and she pressed a kiss to his cheek before letting go. “I am, without any doubt, completely, _utterly_ in love with you, Benedict.”

It was Ben’s turn to snort. “You just love my afters.”

“Strictly speaking, he loves _Stefano’s_ afters,” Shannon said.

“Shut it, you. Unless you’re also about to inform me of your utter inlovedness.”

“That’s not even a word!”

“Well it should be!”

Tom chuckled at their by-play as he looked between them.

“The fact that you do things exactly like this is why my inlovedness goes past utterly and into hopelessly,” Shannon said, managing to keep a straight face somehow as Ben squinted at her.

“I choose to take your declaration at face value. Thank you both, we can now get to the afters. Tom, would you like some tea?”

“It would be utterly lovely to have some tea.”

“Ugh, I retract my offer.”

“For tea or pudding?” Tom asked.

Ben put his hands on his hips and frowned down at them. “Both.”

“Don’t be like that, Benny,” Tom wheedled, moving closer to the food containers on the worktop. 

Smirking, Ben moved in front of the containers. “Maybe you should’ve thought twice about being a prat.”

“Like you, it’s a natural state of being for me.” At Ben’s eye roll he added, “Let me make it up to you?”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

Tom’s chin came up but the challenge was softened by his hooded eyes, warm and darkening as he stepped into Ben’s space. “Something like this.” He went up on the balls of his feet to reach Ben’s mouth. 

Ben made him work for it, not bending to meet him, eyebrow raised, but Tom persisted, pressing his mouth to Ben’s, cupping Ben’s full lower lip between his and sucking gently. Moving on, he kissed Ben’s upper lip, then right corner of his mouth, tracing the tip of his tongue across to kiss the left corner. 

“I suppose,” Ben murmured against Tom’s mouth before opening his on a sigh and allowing Tom’s tongue to slide in and slowly stroke his cheeks and tongue.

Shannon leant against the counter, warmth building as she watched them kiss, even though there was nothing pressing or passionate about it. Their physical differences and yet how well they fit together was something she always enjoyed seeing: Ben tall, lithe, big hands cupping Tom’s face, long, slender fingers in Tom’s shorter hair; Tom shorter, more compact, one hand around Ben’s biceps, the other in his longer, messier curls. The aesthetics were always pleasing, even without the blatant sexiness that often accompanied them. 

Moments later, Ben made a soft sound and pulled back. “Your gesture of reconciliation is acceptable.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Tom replied, smirking.

“Does this mean we can get to dessert now?” Shannon said tartly, putting her hands on her hips as if she were put out.

Ben turned to her, eyebrow rising. “That wasn’t sweet enough for you?” 

“It was lovely, but I’m after a different type of sweet now. One I can taste on my own tongue.”

“Fair enough,” Tom said.

Ben let go of Tom to open the containers and examine the treats inside. “How are we even going to split these up? I mean the panna cotta is firm, but the zabaglione…”

“Are there berries included?” Shannon asked, going over to get a look at the situation.

“Mm, strawberries, yeah.”

“Okay,” said Shannon, “we’ll divide the strawberries, then reapply the zabaglione over them. We’re going to lose valuable custard, but needs must.”

“You could always lick the container,” Tom offered.

“Or lick it off our fingers,” Ben said.

Shannon shook her head, chuckling. “Fine, yes, either of those things are acceptable, now sit down already.”

“Why don’t we forgo new plates and just take spoonfuls directly from the boxes?” Ben said as he brought the containers to the island.

Shannon got out spoons and some napkins. “Why not.”

Tom reached into the flatter of the two containers Ben had set down, selecting a strawberry and running it through the zabaglione before holding it out for Ben. Shannon licked her lips as Ben leant forward, opening his mouth, his tongue curling between Tom’s fingers, under and behind the treat, delicately taking it from Tom’s hand, his eyes sliding closed as he chewed, savouring the taste.

“Mmmm, so light and delicious.”

Tom smiled, then reached for another strawberry, dipped it in the zabaglione and held it out for her. She took it from him, deliberately closing her teeth on his fingers and scraping lightly as she pulled back. One corner of his mouth curved up as she swallowed, and he reached up to cup the back of her head, keeping her in place as he leant to kiss her, his tongue stroking her cheeks and tongue in gentle sweeps before pulling back.

“You’re right, Ben,” he said, looking over at him.

“You should check for yourself,” Ben said.

“Mm, I should, yes. For the sake of completeness and all.” Tom slid off the stool and cupped Ben’s head, pulling him close and kissing him the way he’d done with Shannon a moment ago.

Shannon leant against the worktop and enjoyed the sight of them. When Tom pulled back and licked his lips, she said, “What say you, in the name of completeness?”

“I’m still one hundred percent correct in saying light and delicious.”

“Excellent,” she replied, grinning. “Shall we get back to actually eating the dessert?”

“Oh, we absolutely shall,” Ben said, reaching into the box for a strawberry and dragging it through the custard before holding it out for Tom.

Tom smirked but took the sweet, rumbling in pleasure as he swallowed. Ben’s eyes were fastened on Tom’s throat intently, and Shannon found that she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Tom shifted and Ben must have seen something in his face because Ben’s gaze softened and his mouth curved into the familiar crooked--and much loved--smile. “All right,” he said, responding to something she couldn’t see from where she was. 

Tom leant forward, kissed Ben again, soft and sweet this time, then turned and kissed her the same way, then got back on his stool. “How about some of the panna cotta?” Taking a spoon, he gathered a bite and held it out for Shannon.

She took it with no artifice, sighing with pleasure as the sweetness of the cool custard exploded across her tongue. “How is everything from there so amazing?”

“Have you met Alessandra? She’s rather...exacting,” Ben said, chuckling.

“Are you saying she’s a control freak?” Tom said, eyebrow rising.

“All chefs are, really,” Shannon replied, nodding. “If you can’t do it yourself, you have people around you that you trust to keep your standards. It can be a delicate balancing act. And hey, I’m saying this as an underling who observed it. I would never refer to myself as any kind of chef.”

“Not even an amateur one?” Ben asked.

She shrugged. “I’m not passionate about food or cooking, it’s just a thing I got some training in so I would have something to fall back on while finding my legs in the art world. Chefs don’t always have formal education, there are plenty who work their way up the line and become head chefs, but what they do have is drive and passion and that comes across.” She chuckled at the twin dubious expressions they had on their faces. “Look, I was literally trained in how to prepare and serve food. I’m brilliant at following recipes and I can make them up on the fly if I want. I can make a plate of food look like a goddamn piece of art, but that’s me applying my passion to something I happen to have to do to survive.”

Tom nodded. “All right.”

Ben pursed his lips. “But in acting, we’d still refer to a person with a day job who also performs in a community theatre an actor. An actor is one who acts.”

“Yeah, it’s not an exact comparison. The reason I chose the food prep rather than anything secretarial is because it felt closer to what I truly wanted to do, which was fine art. Working in an office environment sounded like a tortured existence. I honestly have no idea how Edward does it.” 

“Neither do I,” Ben said, shuddering. “An office job with set hours and weekends off has never been a life goal of mine.”

“Nor for me,” Tom added.

“And here we all stand, with our ridiculous working schedules that don’t follow society’s set parameters yet we each love them beyond reckoning,” Shannon said.

Ben put a hand on both of their shoulders. “I love both of you beyond reckoning.”

Tom gathered another spoonful of panna cotta and held it out for Ben. “You love this beyond reckoning as well.”

“I do,” Ben agreed after he swallowed. “I really do. The zabaglione is excellent, but this is next level.”

“I can agree with that,” Shannon said, nodding.

They spent the next few minutes feeding each other, until spoons were scraping the bottoms of the containers.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked as Shannon picked up the zabaglione container. 

“Oh, you thought I was kidding about custard being valuable?” 

“No,” Ben replied, swiping the container right out of her hand. “You must have thought I was kidding when I said lick it off our fingers, though.”

Shannon huffed a laugh. “Oh, very well.”

Ben held the container out for Tom. “You can go first.”

“Well, thank you, Ben.” 

He swirled his finger in the remains of the custard and held it up for Shannon, who sucked it off while Ben dipped his finger in. It wasn’t very long before the custard was gone and Ben tossed the container back on the worktop, pulling Shannon in and kissing her, tracing her lips with his tongue. She didn’t open for him, though, so he let her step back.

“Shall we move this upstairs?” She asked, looking between Tom and Ben.

“If it’s to sleep, then absolutely,” Tom said apologetically, rubbing his face with his hands. “I’m knackered.”

“Not exactly to sleep, but if you’re both up for it I wouldn’t mind watching you two make out for a while and it’s more comfortable to stretch out on the bed.”

“What if I want to watch you and Ben make out?” Tom asked, eyebrow raised.

“Then don’t fall asleep when you’re finished making out with him,” she replied tartly.

“So I get to make out with everyone tonight? Result!” Ben fist pumped and everyone laughed.

“Why don’t you two head upstairs? I’ll settle everything down here and be up shortly.”

“Sounds good,” Tom said, his words followed by a huge yawn. 

“A head start, nice,” Ben said, chuckling as he slipped his arm around Tom’s shoulders and squeezed before sliding his hand down to settle in the small of Tom’s back. “Shall we?”

Tom hummed and let Ben steer him up the stairs. Shannon smiled and binned the empty boxes, put the silverware in the dishwasher and the lasagne and bread boxes in the refrigerator. Just in case no one came back down, she checked the locks and set the alarm, then headed up. She was unsurprised to find the bed empty as she could hear the sink in the en suite running and figured they were getting ready for bed, with Tom in the guest bathroom down the hall. She’d take whichever one came free first. 

Ben poked his head out the door. “You need in here?”

“When you’re done.”

“I’m just finishing my skin routine so you’re welcome to come in.”

“All right then.” She went in and used the second sink to brush her teeth and wash her face and when she was finished with that, Tom was coming into the bedroom, so she kissed him softly on her way out and to the guest bathroom to use the toilet.

When she came back to the bedroom, Tom and Ben, both in sleep pants, were on the bed, kissing soft and warm, neither of them pushing the other in any way, simply enjoying the kisses they were trading. She sighed happily and climbed onto the bed, stretching out on her side to watch them. “You’re both gorgeous together. How did I get so lucky?” 

They pulled back from each other and smiled over at her.

“How, indeed,” Ben said, reaching over to rub his hand up and down her arm, before gently tugging. “Come here?”

“I thought I got to watch first.”

“Tom is more than half asleep already, so you may want to get your own kisses in before he drifts off.” 

“Yes, it would be a damn shame not to, I agree,” Shannon replied. 

Ben rolled off to the side as Shannon straddled Tom before laying herself over him, enjoying the way he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing, before they kissed. They were both smiling as their mouths met, soft, warm, Tom’s slightly lax with impending sleep.

“Goodnight, my love,” she said softly, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before pushing herself up onto her hands and knees.

“‘Night,” Tom murmured, his eyes sliding shut even as Shannon moved off to the side, ending up kneeling by Ben.

“Hello, darling,” Ben said, grinning at her.

“Hi.” She smiled at him as he leant to kiss her, one hand wrapping around her biceps, the other cupping the back of her head.

“Fancy a shag?”

“We wouldn’t want to disturb Tom,” she said, grinning as she nipped Ben’s lip.

“I don’t think we will, but even if I'm wrong, he’ll enjoy watching before he falls back asleep.” 

“Mm, you’re right,” she replied, pretending to think on it. “I think I do fancy a shag.”

“Oh, very good, my lady. Why don’t I get you something to sleep in tonight whilst you get your kit off.” Ben let her go with one more soft, lingering kiss, getting to his feet and walking over to his dresser. 

Shannon quickly divested herself of her clothes and was kneeling up on the mattress again when Ben came back with another pair of sleep pants and a soft looking t-shirt. He set them on the bedside table and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ears before cupping her face.

“You’re so beautiful, Shazza,” he murmured, holding her steady as he leant to kiss her, deep, yet soft.

“You’re pretty handsome yourself, Ben,” she replied as they drew apart. She licked her lips, pleased when his suddenly intense gaze flicked down to her mouth before returning to her eyes. “Now get your handsome arse on this bed and shag me.”

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” He got out a condom and rolled it on first, but then climbed on. “Why don’t you spread your legs just a little for me.”

She had an idea of what he wanted and did as he asked, drawing in a loud breath as he slowly thrust between her thighs. There was no lube applied, so the friction built quickly, but so did her wetness, so when he angled his hips a bit and slid through her crease rather than her thighs, it was easy, his hum a sign it was a relief for both of them. On his next thrust, his head caught on the edge of her opening and she sighed as he slid over it again.

“This has been fun but please get inside me already.”

Ben laughed helplessly, hugging her, before carefully lowering them both to the mattress. Shannon let her legs splay apart so Ben could easily enter her, and he didn’t make her wait any longer, sliding slow and steady through her wetness, both of them moaning as he filled her.

“You feel so fucking good,” Ben crooned in her ear before he took her lobe in his teeth and scraped down. Gasping, she wrapped her legs around his waist, turning her head enough to scrape over his jawbone, her teeth nipping at the underside of his chin as his hips stuttered in his steady, slow thrusting. He pressed a series of sucking kisses down the side of her face before he pushed himself up on his elbows so he could look at her. “We needn't rush, darling. Let me make you feel good?”

“You always do,” she admitted, turning her head to the side and looking away while a flush darkened her cheeks further. They’d been together for a little while now and yet she still felt awkward about saying such things to both her partners, although it was more difficult with Ben. 

“I’ll certainly always try to,” he said, leaning to take her lower lip between his teeth and pulling up. “Stay with me,” he said when she looked at him again. 

“Yes,” she breathed as he resumed his lazy pace, tightening around him. 

He resisted her attempt to speed him up, instead chuckling huskily whilst nuzzling at her neck. “Are you in such a hurry tonight?” 

“And if I am?”

“I can accommodate you, if you’d like.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said, tightening around him again and undulating her hips. “Please do.” He groaned loudly, trying to muffle it by pressing his mouth to her throat. She swallowed, one hand sliding through his hair, the other clutching at his shoulder. “Yeah, come on.”

“You’ll need to let go,” he rasped with a quick twist of his hips to indicate where he meant. 

She gasped as he rubbed inside her, her heels digging into his lower back until she could relax enough to unwind them. She planted her feet on the bed, whining in disappointment as he withdrew, but it was only for a moment. He glanced down at the condom, straightened it up, knelt between her legs, then entered her again in one long, slow thrust. 

“God, _Ben_ ,” she breathed as he flexed his hips, staying deep, simply moving inside her, rubbing places she hardly ever remembered until they were drenching her in thick, dripping heat with each of his undulations. It felt so good, and he could keep her here for as long as he wanted, pleasure building slowly, maddening if she hadn’t specifically asked for it. 

“I’ve got you, my love,” he said, low and rough as he rotated his hips in addition to his undulations. 

Shannon pressed her mouth to Ben’s shoulder, not biting, simply trying to smother the sounds she was making. They were barely moving, but he was stroking her everywhere inside, a warm liquid feeling building entirely too slowly for her liking. “Ben, Ben please, harder.”

Ben rubbed his cheek against hers then pressed open mouth kisses to her cheek and the corner of her mouth, his tongue sliding across her lips, but never truly kissing her mouth. “But Tom...”

“I’m awake, give her what she wants,” Tom rumbled, low and hoarse.

Ben groaned, leaning his forehead against hers as he stilled for a moment before shuddering. She thought he may have come, which, fair play, Tom’s voice had shot heat through her as well, but a few seconds later, he sucked in a deep breath and started to push himself up and back. 

“No!” She kissed him, hard and demanding as she wound her arms and legs around him again. “Shag me, Benedict.”

“All right, my love,” Ben said, low and rough. “Let’s get on our sides so Tom has a better view and then I promise you I will give you exactly what you need.”

“Fine,” she said on a big sigh as Ben withdrew. 

He rolled onto his side facing Tom, then took hold of her, moving her into position, his chest to her back, their legs tangled for a moment before he lifted her top leg a bit. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she moaned as he took himself in hand, guiding himself to her entrance, the stretch welcome as he filled her. 

Tom’s low hum stoked the fire and Ben began to thrust into her, his strokes slow and deep to start with. After a minute, he moved her raised leg back to rest over his hip, easing the strain of trying to keep it up and changing the angle of penetration enough that she gasped and curled her fingers around the pillow.

“Oh, yeah, that’s good, isn’t it,” Ben said breathlessly, finally starting to move faster..

“Yes! Yeah, it--it is--right there, that, do that, Ben, k-keep doing that, _fuck_!” He was still catching her in some of the places he’d been stimulating before, but now, with the harder pressure and drag, her orgasm was gathering quickly. 

Ben reached down, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulled her back as tightly to his chest as possible, his hand spread across her abdomen, his free hand tangling in her hair, though it was supporting rather than directing. That wasn’t a step she and him had taken yet, but the jolt of heat that had gone through her at the thought was something to think about later. Ben started pounding into her in short, quick thrusts, and it was perfect; she basked in it, in Ben’s murmuring compliments and love into her ear as he drove both of them toward their release, in the thought that Tom was watching, that he might want to touch as well…

As if Tom could read her mind--and maybe he could, at least about these sorts of things--he reached out and stroked his hand down from her shoulder to her breast, tweaking her nipple, then moving further to slide between her legs. He rested the heel of his palm on the join of thigh and hip, his thumb sliding over her clit before settling to the side of it, taking the intensity away whilst keeping the pressure on, and cupped his fingers over Ben’s prick, rubbing him on each stroke. Ben hissed as if burned and pressed up into Tom’s fleeting touch.

“I’m going to come,” Shannon moaned. “Please, just…”

Tom moved his hand, heedless of Ben’s whine, and began to circle her clit with two fingers, but she took his hand in hers and he let her position him exactly where she needed, his palm pressing down just above her pubic bone and his fingers to either side of her clit, rubbing in short bursts like Ben’s thrusts. It was only moments later when she turned her face into the pillow and shouted as she came hard. When she’d recovered, Ben was still inside her, but his own heartbeat had begun to slow and she knew he’d come. Tom’s hand was still where she’d put it, but now resting lightly over her without touching any possibly over sensitised places. 

“Oh my God,” she mumbled, clumsily pushing at Tom’s hand. 

He moved it immediately, stroking up her side. “You looked amazing,” he said, low and hoarse.

“I _feel_ amazing.” She reached back and rubbed her hand over Ben’s hip as she twisted enough to see over her shoulder. “Was it good for you?” she asked, smirking a little.

Ben, who’d been lying with his head on the mattress, his chin over her shoulder, pushed himself up, both of them groaning as he moved inside her, not entirely softened yet. He also twisted enough that they could share a deep yet soft kiss. “ _So_ good. I, also, feel amazing right now.” He kissed her again, then reached down to hold the edges of the condom. “Shall we?”

“Yes, go ahead,” she replied, hissing softly as he withdrew. Once he was out, he nudged her over onto her back and climbed over her, settling on his hands and knees, kissing her, soft and warm until she pushed him back a bit. “I hate to be unromantic, but…”

He chuckled huskily then kissed her once more before rolling off to the side. “You’re not the only one.”

She got up and quickly ducked into the en suite while Ben went down the hall. After, she pulled on the sleep clothes Ben had laid out before and climbed back in bed next to Tom, warm and relaxed and already drifting when Ben came back. 

“You coming to bed?” Tom asked, words becoming indistinct as sleep started to overtake him again.

Ben pulled on his own sleep pants again. “Yes. Budge over a bit, won’t you, Shaz?”

She did as he asked, rolling onto her side with her arm flung over Tom’s waist. Ben turned out the lights and climbed on behind Shannon, spooning her.

“Goodnight, my loves,” Ben said as Shannon settled herself against him.

“Mm, night,” Tom mumbled, mostly asleep again.

“Goodnight,” Shannon replied, smiling as Ben pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She felt utterly content in the moment, warm, sated, safe, surrounded by both the men who loved her. They would move apart, change position in sleep, but she wouldn't mind if they didn’t, and she drifted off with her mouth curved into a smile at the thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us [here](https://cumberhardhiddlesbitch.tumblr.com/) over at tumblr and say hey or ask questions or just look at our pretty, pretty boys.


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